


You say "potato," I say "perfect excuse for applesauce and sour cream"

by belmanoir



Category: due South
Genre: M/M, Original Rayz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-09
Updated: 2012-04-09
Packaged: 2017-11-03 08:07:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/379188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belmanoir/pseuds/belmanoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fraser went into town in a blizzard to pick up a Hanukkah package from Ray's mother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You say "potato," I say "perfect excuse for applesauce and sour cream"

**Author's Note:**

> Ray Lieberman is one of my [original Rays](http://belmanoir.livejournal.com/78176.html). He's Jewish, and he's played by Don McKellar.

Ray was waiting for Fraser on the porch when the dogsled pulled up. "I told you not to go into town," he said, coming down the steps heedless of the snow and shoving a mug of tea at him. "I told you it was dangerous. But did you listen to me? Oh, no, you always know best!"

"Happy Hanukkah, Ray," Fraser said. "Your mother's package is on the back of the sled. Careful, there are two eggs in the box on top of it."

Ray looked in the box, shivering. Sure enough, two small brown eggs were nestled delicately in a pile of straw. "Hanukkah isn't even that important a holiday," he grumbled. "Certainly not worth risking your life over. If it was Rosh Hashanah, maybe--"

"I wasn't in any danger," Fraser said. 

"Fraser, _no one_ is out in this weather! No one but you!"

"Well, I did have to go to the post office clerk's home and--"

Ray clutched at his hair. "Inside," he ordered, picking up the egg-box. "Now."

Fraser picked up the package and followed him inside, setting it on the table and watching Ray expectantly.

"I'm not going to open it," Ray said. "That would just encourage you. And I'm not using the eggs. We'll have to make do with latkes that are just potatoes and flour and salt."

"But, Ray, the applesauce is in my pack."

Ray threw up his hands. "Fine! Fine, but I'm not opening any of my mother's things _except_ the matzoh meal. Possibly I can guilt you by giving you your present."

Fraser paused, half-in and half-out of his coat. "My--"

"Oh, don't act so surprised. Surely you noticed the sex jar money was missing."

Fraser flushed and focused on pulling off his boots. "Ray, I really wish we could find some other method of saving."

Ray rolled his eyes as he cut through the layers upon layers of tape his mother had swathed the package in. "That was the best idea Abigail Van Buren ever had," he declared. "Besides, you know sometimes I have trouble getting in the mood. Knowing that we're putting a dollar in savings afterwards helps motivate me." His mouth curved up at Fraser's expression. "Well, _I_ thought it was funny." He opened the box and rooted around inside, ignoring the menorah, candles, and small wrapped packages--not to mention the kosher salamis rolling around in the bottom of the box. "Aha!" He held up an envelope and peered inside.

"Happy Hanukkah," he said, handing it to Fraser with a flourish.

Fraser reached inside and pulled out two airline tickets. "Chicago to Yellowknife," he said slowly. "...Ray Vecchio and Ray Kowalski."

"I only paid for half the tickets, of course," Ray said. "We have sex fairly often but even so..."

"Ray," Fraser said slowly. "You were saving this money in case of a medical emergency."

" _Keyn aynhoreh._ Planning a Passover dinner for only two people _is_ a medical emergency," Ray said. "Besides, you haven't seen them since the spring and you know once their adoption goes through they'll never be able to afford airfare again. And safety in numbers, you know. Passover is pogrom season. Now promise me you'll keep your Gentile friends from snacking during the seder."

Fraser was still staring at the tickets. "I--I promise." There was a suspicious catch in his voice.

"Just don't get any bright ideas about paying me back by flying my mother up here, because I'd never let you put any money in the sex jar ever again."

"I don't think I _can_ pay you back," Fraser said. "Thank you."

Ray was quiet for a minute. Then he leaned over and kissed Fraser. "You want to pay me back? Finish grating the potatoes. I've never done this without a food processor before. My fingers are bloody stumps."

Fraser took Ray's hands and examined his fingers very carefully. "I think this might be a medical emergency," he said. "We'd better start saving for your treatment right away."


End file.
